


Blonds Do It Better

by latinaeinstein (oneforyourfire)



Category: Block B
Genre: M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 15:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16642565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/latinaeinstein
Summary: Kyung is blond. Jiho thinks it's awful





	Blonds Do It Better

**Author's Note:**

> 2014 fic

Jiho registers something vaguely akin to shame at how quickly, how _desperately_ his body reacts—breath hitching, cock twitching in his pants, skin suffusing with heat. But it's short-lived because Jiho abandoned shame long ago. At least as far as Kyung is concerned.

So Jiho indulges in the sharp spike of lust, fucking _revels_ in it as he licks his lips, swallows hard, thumb idling over Kyung's latest hairdresser selfie. Barefaced, wide-eyed, hair wet and messy and swept across his eyebrows. He's blond, blond, _blond_.

And _fuck_ the contrast against his pale skin, the way it falls in his eyes, frames his fucking _smirk_. _So_ fucking hot. _So_ fucking blond. _So_ fucking his.

And Jiho thinks about having to _perform_ next to him. Kyung getting all sweaty and cocky and smirky, makeup smeared, eyes burning with the passion of being on stage, skin glowing with the the power of fan love. Comebacks are fucking cruel, Jiho decides, sucking his lower lip into his mouth, running his hand absently down towards the waistband of his jeans. Really fucking cruel.

_look good huh_ , Kyung sends  
 _look hot_  
 _;)_

_look alright_ , Jiho responds

So Kyung sends another picture. This one a little less innocent. Eyes half-lidded, lips curled more deliberately, chin titled. A _sex face_. Jiho knows. Because _fuck_ , Jiho's fallen apart, sobbed through climax while meeting those eyes, begging for those lips.

_look good huh_   
_look hot_   
_;)_

Acting on impulse, on _need_ , Jiho tugs on his sneakers, his hoody, shoves his phone and wallet into his pockets. He scrambles toward the door.

_meet me at the starbucks by the salon_

His phone dings in his pocket as his sneakers pound against the pavement.

_;)_

 

Kyung's hair is dry now—and _so_ fucking blond, fucking _glowing_ as it frames his face in the soft light of noon—still messy and falling in his arched eyebrow. He swirls his iced coffee, sucks obscenely on the straw, and then smirks as he licks at the green tip. He barks out a laugh as he meets Jiho's glazed eyes.

But Jiho is too aroused to be annoyed as he grabs him by the wrist, drags him into the men's bathroom.

"Kinky," Kyung breathes—like they haven't done this dozens of times before, like they haven't done _worse_ —and Jiho presses him back against the stall door, grabs that blond hair— _so_ fucking blond—to force Kyung's head back. He kisses him fast and hard, with no preamble or lead-in as he presses his body to his. Kyung's sneakers squeak against the linoleum as he scrambles to full height to kiss him back just as hard, just as fast.

And Jiho can fucking _taste_ Kyung's stupid smirk—beneath the coffee on his tongue, the lip balm on his lips—as he molds his fingers over Kyung's slim hips, skates them insistently underneath Kyung's shirt. Kyung lets out this little breathy moan when Jiho rubs over his nipple, and Jiho can taste that, too.

"I'm gonna suck you off," Jiho decides in a whisper, and Kyung pulls away and laughs, tight and breathless, teeth white, hair falling in his eyes, _so_ fucking hot, _so_ fucking blond. He tightens his fingers around Jiho's clothed shoulders—from where he's been using them for leverage, tugging himself up—and pushes down hard.

Jiho falls heavily on his knees. And Jiho wasn't really done kissing him, but Kyung is scraping his fingernails across his scalp, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over his eyebrows. And his hair— _so_ fucking blond—looks like a fucking _halo_ as he urges him to get to it, then. Suck his cock, he's so good at it. He's the fucking _best_.

Jiho grabs Kyung by the hips, tilting them forward as he drags him closer, nuzzling against his stomach, murmuring against the black cotton of his shirt. He noses along his clothed bellybutton as his fingers—skilled, experienced because he _is_ the fucking best—pop open Kyung's pants, tug at the zipper, slip inside. To where Kyung is _just_ beginning to strain against his boxers.

"You're not even hard," Jiho notes, affronted.

"Make me hard, then, Jiho," Kyung challenges.

And Jiho makes a show of licking his palm and meeting Kyung's dark, heavy eyes as he strokes him nice and slow. Calloused fingers wrapped tight around flushed, silky flesh, Jiho tugs him to full hardness, leans forward to swirl his tongue appreciatively along the head of Kyung's cock. He murmurs out his approval right against the trembling flesh, kissing the tip all soft and slow. He savors the moisture pearling there with a breathy moan, an obscene curl of his tongue.

"Gonna suck me off?" Kyung breathes, pressing forward more urgently, rubbing against the seam of Jiho's lips. And Jiho opens his mouth shamelessly, lips puffing out to mouth at the head, suck it just the slightest bit inside. "Gonna suck me off with your dick-sucking lips, Jiho?"

Jiho nods, slow and deliberate, with a soft, filthy hum, before gliding forward smoothly. He licks along the veins at the underside, relaxes his throat, and Kyung drags out his name in a long, low moan. His fingers fall to Jiho's own blond hair, grasping almost painfully as he groans. Jiho looks up at him from beneath his dark lashes, like he knows Kyung likes, as he begins to move in earnest. Fast, steady, wet, pausing only to gasp against the spit-slick, hot, hard flesh.

"You look so pretty taking my cock," Kyung drawls almost sleepily, the pad of his thumb dragging across Jiho's eyebrows, dropping to press against the outline of his cock at Jiho's cheek. And Jiho balks at that, pulls off with a slick, sloppy pop. Kyung laughs, rolling his hips forward, and Jiho can't begrudge him the insult as he falls forward again, out of instinct, out of need, taking him back into his willing mouth. Kyung looms over him, panting, affected, with his dark eyes, his slick bottom lip.

Jiho blinks up at him, past the tears beading on his eyelashes. And the fucking heaviness of Kyung's hands, his eyes, his cock in Jiho's mouth. Hot and musky and familiar and _fuck_. Jiho's own erection presses insistent and desperate, straining against the confines of his tight jeans. One of Jiho's hands wanders southward to pat clumsy and hard over his own aching erection, and Kyung catches the movement. His lips ghost into a smirk but then puff out in a moan.

And Kyung is so fucking _beautiful_ —so fucking _blond_. It's falling into his eyes, partially obscuring his fiery gaze, and Jiho wants him so fucking much. Like this. Like this. Like this. He's _everything_ like this.

Before Jiho can start to think something stupid or cheesy like about finding those golden strands on his pillow case. Or about feeling them tickle against his nose as they cuddle on the coach to watch dubbed anime on his computer. Or about running his fingers through them absently after Kyung's after-practice shower.

Before he can start, Kyung tugs on his hair, forces more of his cock inside, and Jiho gasps, tilting his head back and whimpering. He hollows his cheeks, tongues sloppy and desperate. He can hear the filthy squelch as he quickens his pace.

"Wanna fuck you," Kyung rasps. "When we get home—wanna fuck you—fuck—so hard, Jiho."

And Jiho thinks instead about pulling on Kyung's blond locks to anchor himself, clinging tight as he 's overwhelmed with pleasure and sensation and heat and _Kyung_. _Fucking Kyung_. He thinks about dragging Kyung even closer, inhaling that blond sweaty dampness as he pants into it, wrecked, eager as Kyung fucks him hard and fast, just how he needs.

Jiho slurps more insistently, moans.

"Jiho, my _cocksucker_ ," Kyung praises in English, voice indulgent, affectionate, _husky_. There is a flash of heat, a sharp spike of pleasure at the word, and Jiho moans involuntarily around Kyung's cock, grinds harder against his own palm. "So good at sucking my cock."

"Oh _fuck_ —come into my mouth," he gasps, and Kyung's eyelids flutter, eyebrows knit. He pets over Jiho's face suddenly, sloppily, as he arches sharply, releasing hot and bitter into Jiho's mouth. Jiho moans, scrambles to swallow every spurted drop as Kyung groans his name.

Jiho is tugged up by the roots of his hair, and he hardly has a chance to register the sting before Kyung is palming over his clothed cock, licking into his mouth. Kyung sucks hard on his bottom lip.

"When we get home, I'll let you fuck my face," he pants into Jiho's open mouth. "Pull my hair. Come in my mouth, too, Jiho."

Jiho's hips stutter, and his eyelids clench shut. And he falls apart to the image of liquid black eyes and messy, sweaty blond strands giving beneath his heavy grip.


End file.
